Praying Isn't the Only Thing You Can Do On Your Knees
by Violet Ramona
Summary: Okay this a Destiel fic with Dom!Cas and Sub!Dean, and that's about it.


Dean pulled the Impala into yet another cheap motel parking lot. He took the key out of the ignition and put it in his suit pocket, along with his wallet and fake FBI ID. Sam opened the passenger door. He tugged at the collar of his white, button down shirt, loosening his tie.  
"Cas said to meet him in 14B, right?" Sam said as he slammed the car door shut.  
"That's what he said." Dean spoke in his usual sarcastic tone. Sam sighed.  
"Why don't you go see what he was talking about and I'll go and watch Rose's house for anything weird." He was referring to the case they picked up while coming into town. Dean rubbed his hand over his mouth and shrugged.  
"Whatever floats your boat." Sam rolled his eyes while Dean fished out the keys he'd just put in his pocket. He tossed them over the roof of the Impala and Sam caught them as he walked over to the driver's side. With the door already open, he slid into the seat, and then closed it.  
"I'll be back in the morning." Dean nodded his head and Sam pulled out of the parking lot.  
Dean walked onto the platform where the doors to rooms were. He found 14B and knocked on the dirty, green, steel door. He found that the door wasn't locked because his knocking pushed it slightly open. Staring at the dark inch of inside he could see through the crack, he reached for the gun he kept between his pant waist and his back. He cocked it and pushed open the door with his foot. He pointed the gun inside and hesitantly walked inside.  
"C-Cas..?" The lights flickered on and in front of him was Castiel lying on a crummy matress, his left hand pressed on his right forearm over his trenchcoat.  
"Cas!" Dean started to rush over to his former angel, but was stopped by a forceful fist to the face. As he reeled back, he noticed a ragged man standing next to him. He caressed his now bloody jaw and looked at the man. The man grimaced and his eyes flicked black. Demon. The hunter dropped his useless gun and pulled out the knife Ruby had given the Winchesters that was capable of killing one of these abominations, from the inside of his coat. The demon's eyes narrowed in on the knife and gulped. Dean noticed its fear.  
"What're you scared?" The demon masked his fear with the anger Dean's words caused it. It lifted its leg and kicked the knife out of his hand. It lunged at him, wrapping its hands around the hunter's neck and forcing him up against the brown wall. A small laugh escaped it's pursed lips.  
"No. But you should be." It's grip on Dean's neck got tighter and tighter. His face turned a faint shade of blue and he gasped for air. All of a sudden, the knife that Dean had just dropped was up against the meat suit's neck. It slid across so smoothly, letting blood spill out like water. Instead of flicking black, it's eyes were flickering like crappy light bulbs before it dropped to its knees, face landing hard on the floor. Behind him was Castiel; a bloody knife in his left hand and a bloody right sleeve.  
"Are you okay?" Castiel spoke in his usual monotone voice.  
"Fine. I'm, uh, fine." Dean paused. "What about you, it looks like that demon cut your arm pretty good."  
"I'll be okay. I'm just glad nothing happened to you." Each word sunk into Dean's sweaty skin. This got to him. His pupils grew to the size of the moon. He looked his angel dead in the eye, his pulse racing, and sweat moistened the inside of his palms.  
"Kiss me." Castiel took the index finger of his left hand and wiped away the blood that had spattered across his face, from his lips. He stepped towards Dean's shaking body. The space between them lessened. They could feel each other's heavy breaths, mixed with adrenaline and the smell of their dinners. Castiel took the finger he'd cleaned the blood with and traced the length of Dean's arm, leaving a trail of goose-bumps. His blue eyes, locked with Dean's grassy ones. Dean cocked his head upwards, his nose brushing the angel's. Right before their lips pushed into each other, Castiel broke their long gaze, and stepped away from him. He sighed.  
"I must go. I hope you don't mind taking care of the body on your own." Dean clenched his jaw and his face turned red and hot. He lifted his hand, still soaked in sweat, and ran his fingers threw his golden hair. His eyes emanated frustration and pleading instead of the seduction they once held.  
"Dammit, Cas, I'm tired of these, these mixed signals. You're not an angel anymore, you don't-" The former angel quickly turned around to face the hunter, who was speakng too loudly, his dirty, tan trenchcoat whipping in a circle by his legs. He forced his hand over Dean's mouth and pushed him up against the paint-chipped, motel wall behind him. Back within intimate range, the two were staring at each other once more. Castiel could feel him smirking underneath his hand. Dean's tongue was dancing behind his lips. He slowly released his grip from the hunter's face.  
"I'll say it again... Kiss me." Castiel gave in. He rested his hand on the side of Dean's neck, the top of his fingers grazing the ends of his hair. They both closed their eyes, hiding their dilated pupils. They pushed their soft lips together and stayed like that. Everything was so quiet. Their lips started to part, but their bodies stayed close. Castiel began turning Dean around. He was pushing him towards the bed, but they never stopped kissing each other. He pinned his Winchester onto the mattress he was just bleeding onto. He was standing over Dean, who was panting on the bed. Castiel took off his trenchcoat and began unbottoning his shirt. Dean stood up in anticipation, reaching for Cas's belt buckle. He pushed him back onto the bed.  
"I'm going to do what I want with you. Just you wait." He pulled the sleeves off his arms and dropped the shirt on the floor. He slowly unbuckled the belt that Dean had just lunged at. It slid out of the loops on his pants, that he was now unbottoning. They slid down his legs and he stepped out of them. He was now standing in nothing but his boxers and staring at Dean. His lips turned upwards.  
"Get on your knees." Dean obeyed and looked up at him. Only for his angel, he was on his knees, about to do the complete opposite of praying.


End file.
